NUMB3RS- After Story
by SmurfyFriend
Summary: "We all want freedom now." Suddenly the Night Vale City Council's words never had so much resonance. Drink to forget. This takes place immediately after the "Numbers" episode, but before "The Visitor". Contains shameless Cecilos, suicide mentions, alcohol abuse, and spoilers. All Hail the Glow Cloud


**Hi, everyone!**

 **I've been in a major Welcome to Night Vale craze lately, and I'm reasonably sure that Cecilos is my new OTP. anyone that follows me on tumblr (Username Lovelylovelyartist** ***shameless plug**shot*** **) knows that I am currently Night Vale trash and i could give two shits XD**

 **This story takes place immediately following the episode "Numbers" and before the next episode. Idk, I feel like this would've really kicked Cecil in the teeth. plus one of my headcanon is that he has some form of depression, and some suicidal tendencies.**

 **Ok, that's it for now, but there will probably be more WTNV fanfiction because I'm too in love with this podcast.**

 **Characters and settings, and the show in general belongs to Joseph Fink and Jeffery Cramor. and hell I dont wish i owned it because they are amazing with this show and I couldn't ever do it justice.**

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"Oh…. Oh, Fey… Perhaps Freedom… was never an option…"

The blonde radio host kept his microphone close to him, speaking without any script, describing the scene to his listeners. He had left to investigate the Night Vale "Numbers" station, but he hadn't been expecting to find this.

"Listeners, um, I'm trying to disconnect the power," he described, trying to pull the plug on the broadcast device, which was hooked up to a small computer. "To remove the case from the computer to… do anything but…"

His heart was breaking. "The protections on this are quite secure." His voice fell. "Even with all my scouting badges and public school education on armed insurrection…."

The ding following the reading of numbers felt like a knife to his heart. "I… don't think there's anything I can do…." He looked around, finding a pair of wire cutters on the table. "Um, I'm trying to cut the wires, but," the cutters snapped as soon as he tried. "Nope… Ah, it's impossible." He watched on helplessly. "I can only do what so many of you can only do."

He paused, listening to the broadcast. "I can only…" his voice, so strong and even most times, was thick in his throat. "Listen."

He swallowed the lump in his throat and continued. "Listeners," and then quietly, "And here I address also myself…"

The host kept his eyes on the machines. "Remember our… limitations…" he closed his eyes. "There are boundaries to all of our worlds… Fey, for instance, appears to be self-aware software trapped in a heavily-defended metal box."

He kept his voice even, talking to himself more than anyone listening to his show. "But within our limitations, there is no limit to how beautiful we can become. How much of our ideal self we can create." He took a deep breath to steady himself. "All the beauty in the world was made within the oppressive limitations of time, and death, and impermanence. And, Fey?"

He looked back at the computers, his heart hurting. "I wish that you also could have been free." He blinked away tears and stared down at the ground. "I wish freedom for so many of us." He moved his fingers, watching his deep violet tentacle tattoos wriggle in slight agitation. "We all want freedom now."

The radio host swallowed the lump in his throat. "Stay tuned next for the limit of my broadcast today, replaced by limitless silence." He breathed. "and doubt."

The numbers marched on. "Goodnight, sweet Fey." He murmured, "And goodnight, Nightvale. Goodnight."

He couldn't take his eyes off of the broadcasting equipment, and he forgot he had the microphone still on for a few moments. He turned off the microphone and removed the bulky earphones from his head and put his face in his hands. His iridescent violet purple birthmarks wriggled up and down his arms in agitation, indicative of their host's mental state. The usually collected host shook where he knelt, next to the sealed metal box that was Fey. The host (computer, but a host is still a host) who had dared to rebel. The host that had dared to sing music not approved by the Sheriff's Secret Police or StrexCorp.

The host that dared to be free.

The host that Cecil so wanted to help. To join. To be.

But Fey, once as full of life as a computer could be, was managed. Rebooted.

 _Reeducated._

Suddenly, the Night Vale City Council's words had never had so much resonance.

"If you see something

Say nothing

And drink to forget."

The Voice of Night Vale knew he was too late to say nothing. But it wasn't really what sounded appealing to him.

 _Drink to forget._

There was a nudge and a whine of quiet electricity from next to Cecil prompted him to look at the mobile broadcasting equipment. The Host gave a sigh and stood, taking the battery and cables like a leash and giving it a slight tug. The equipment made a noise resembling a bat's squeak and a pterodactyl's purr and fidgeted its spidery legs, barely leaving footprints in the red sand. "Come on, Aleksei." He murmured, dejected. "You've had your walk. I…" he shook his head. "I need a drink."

"Cecil, I'm home," there was a sound of keys dropping in the dish next to the door Cecil barely registered. "Cecil? Sweetie? Are you home?"

The radio host gave no indication he had heard anyone enter, or was looking for him. Somewhere in the back of his intoxicated mind, he knew he didn't want his sweet, sweet and perfect Carlos finding him like this. But even with that shame in mind, he couldn't move from his spot on the ground next to the bed, watching the angels-that definitely did not exist- playing in the shadows in the corners, disappearing as soon as they realized they were being watched. Cecil brought the bottle to his lips (cups and glasses for drinking purposes were currently banned and still under investigation). He let the fiery liquid rush over his tongue, burn the insides of his cheeks, then flow down his throat and burn his tortured esophagus in one smooth motion. With his black rimmed glasses on the floor next to him, he had to squint to see the white blur in the doorway. He quickly realized it wasn't an angel (since they still don't exist) but it was the next closest thing- his Carlos. Cecil could hardly appreciate his particularly perfect today hair and instead was focused on his disappointed-no- concerned face. "Oh, Cecil," the scientist's voice was low as he knelt down next to his love. "I should've known… I should've known today's show would affect you…"

"Car….los…" Cecil's usually mellifluous voice was barely a croak.

"I tried to call you after your broadcast, but it kept going straight to voicemail and then shocking me." Carlos said worriedly, picking up Cecil's glasses and putting them on the nightstand so the carpet wouldn't swallow them up again. (many a nice scarf and hat was lost to the damned thing. But it kept the room quite tidy, so they really didn't mind it.) "Ceece, how much have you had to drink? Good god, you haven't had that whole thing, have you?"

"There is no…. no _good_ god, sweet Carlos…" Cecil slurred on the 'los'. "See something… say nothing…" he brought the bottle back to his lips. " _drink to forget._ "

"Cecil, no," Carlos said softly, understanding in his voice, and put a hand to the bottle. "If you drink anymore you'll kill yourself."

Cecil looked up at his scientist, tortured violet irises meeting chocolate brown. "I… Can't…" he whimpered.

"Yes you can." Carlos murmured, "The City Council can't control every death."

"Forget…" Cecil finished, eyes welling up with water. "C-cant… Forget…"

Carlos's heart cracked at the sound of his weak voice. "Oh, honey…" he whispered.

The scientist wrapped his arms around the radio host as he fell to tears and started sobbing loudly. Carlos rocked him slowly, stroking his blonde hair and whispering quiet words of comfort. "S-she was me, Carlos!" he whimpered, "Fey is ME!"

"No she wasn't Ceece," Carlos tried to soothe him, "Fey was a computer. She was programmed and created to read numbers, for whatever reason it served. She had a rogue program code that corrupted the programming code and caused her to go rogue. It wasn't real, none of it."

"She _was_ real." Cecil murmured, "She was a computer, but she was a host. And they _silenced_ her."

"Ceece," Carlos started to speak.

"No." Cecil stumbled away from his boyfriend to face him, "No, don't you 'Ceece' me!" his voice wobbled. "When I got there they had rebooted her. That's what they _DO_ to us who talk out of turn, or step too far over that jellyfish covered line. They _reeducate_ us, Carlos." His voice dropped to something barely above a whisper. "th-they… _they're going to reeducate me next._ "

"They're not going to reeducate you, darling." Carlos held his distraught boyfriend's face. "I won't let them. I promise."

Cecil cast his eyes down, refusing to make eye contact with Carlos. He wouldn't understand. He couldn't. He was a scientist. He thought in logic and science and things like that. He didn't have to understand what it's like to be silenced for your life's work. What it was actually like to be reeducated.

Maybe no one could understand.

Maybe no one ever could.

"Come on, I'll make you some dinner." Carlos hauled his boyfriend to his feet and guided him to the table, thankful it was staying in place for the moment. "Let's get you sobered up."

Cecil grumbled a reply, birthmarks flickering, irritated, but accepted the seat. He listened quietly as Carlos fired up the stove and put butter into a frying pan. The radio host studied the patterns of the eyeball tablecloth and fiddled with the piercing adorned in the corner of his mouth with his tongue.

Carlos didn't understand

He'd never understand.

No one could ever understand.

The Host stood from his seat. "Ceece?" Carlos glanced over, alerted to the screech of pain from the floor from the chair. "Baby? You okay?"

"I… I'm going for a walk, sweetheart." Cecil's voice was even and emotionless.

"Ceece, no," Carlos turned back to face him, "You're drunk, come sit."

"I'll be fine, Carlos." He murmured, "I won't be long. Promise."

Carlos started to turn back to the pan to continue melting the butter. "Well… if you say-!"

He was caught off guard when his boyfriend swept in with a tight hug. "Cecil? You okay?"

"I love you, my sweet, perfect Carlos." He murmured into the collar of his lab coat. "and I always will… you know that, right?"

Carlos locked eyes with him, touching his forehead to Cecil's, where his third eye usually manifested. "Of course I do, Cecil." He murmured in reply. "And I love you too."

Cecil locked eyes with his scientist and kissed him in a passionate and needy kiss. Carlos couldn't help but feel unease as Cecil pulled away and lingered at the door before slipping out.

 _He did say he wouldn't be long, didn't he?_ Carlos checked his phone for what felt like the tenth time in as many minutes. Nearly an hour had passed since Cecil had left. (Or at least his best estimation of an hour, time in Night Vale was constantly in flux). Carlos had called everyone his phone would allow- John Peters You Know the Farmer, Intern Jeremy, he had even called his boyfriend's self-proclaimed sworn enemy Steve Carlsberg. Just as his phone finally ran out of outgoing calls and hissed at him out of exhaustion, Carlos received a text. The scientist sighed in relief reading the contact name. _Cecil Palmer_! However, as soon as he opened the text, his heart nearly dropped into his stomach.

 _I love you, Carlos. Please don't be angry with me. Please, please, please don't be angry with me. Please tell my Station Management I would like Intern Jeremy to take over for me. I love you, my sweet, perfect, lovely Carlos. Goodbye._

Carlos's phone dropped from his shaking hand. "C-Cecil…" he whispered, "n-no…"

He quickly picked it back up and dialed, desperately. "Let it go through," he begged, prayed even, "Please, just let it go through!"

After the usual heavy breathing and radio static, Carlos gave a sigh of relief as the phone started ringing. He prayed and hoped that Cecil would actually pick up. After a few rings, it suddenly stopped. A few moments passed before there was a sound. "… H-hello?" Cecil's voice sounded shaky.

Carlos let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. "Cecil!" he said, "Thank god, where are you?! Cecil, honey, please, just tell me where you are!"

"C-Carlos…" he sounded as though he was crying. "Please, please don't come for me."

"Ceece, Please."Carlos's voice cracked as he spoke, "P-please, just tell me where you are."

There was a long pause and Carlos almost held his breath again. "R-Radon Canyon." His voice was soft. "I-I went to Radon Canyon. N-none of the 'booths' were in service."

Carlos tried to suppress his panic at the thought of his Cecil trying to find a working suicide booth. "Okay," he nodded, standing up and taking his keys from the dish, "Okay… sweetheart, please, just stay where you are. I'm coming to find you. I'm leaving right now, I'll be there soon."

"O-okay…" Cecil replied quietly, "Carlos… I love you…"

"Don't say it like that, Cecil." Carlos's voice cracked again as he slammed the door behind him, not bothering to lock it. "You say it like it's the last time I'll hear it, like you're going to do something."

Cecil laughed almost, a sad, broken sound. "I won't, Carlos." He promised, "I promise… I wont do anything."

"Okay…" Carlos whispered softly, tearing down the stairs and not daring to touch the elevator after it tried to send him to an alternate dimension, "I… I love you, Cecil."

Carlos sprinted down to his little hybrid coupe, then put his "speed exemption" placard in his back window. Since his purple and pink placard allowed it, the scientist sped out of the parking structure and down the street, determined to save his boyfriend.

Radon Canyon was usually about a twenty minute drive, but thanks to the wormholes that hadn't yet been fixed, Carlos reached the canyon in the equivalent of five minutes. He threw the car in park and ripped the keys from the ignition. He ran towards the canyon. "Cecil!" he yelled, "Cecil, where are you!? Answer me!"

Carlos ran up the trail, looking around wildly. He didn't have to run long before he found his love, slumped against a tree that jutted out next to a ledge. "Cecil." Carlos's voice was soft.

Cecil looked up in panic and stood up slightly suddenly. "D-don't come closer."

Carlos stopped in his tracks as Cecil crept closer to the edge. "Cecil…" his voice was soft, "Ceece, darling, talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about," Cecil sounded despondent. "You just don't understand, Carlos. Nobody does."

"Then help me," Carlos begged, slowly approaching Cecil and holding onto the tree. "Help me understand."

"Carlos, the ledge!" Cecil put a hand out, as if to stop him. "You'll fall!"

"If you go, I go." Carlos told him, all seriousness in his face. "please, Ceece. Just talk to me."

Cecil looked away. "I'm so scared, Carlos." He whimpered, "S-someday soon, it'll be me… I report to much. I say too much, I always say too much. And when StrexCorp decides I've said too much…" he paused and glanced around, searching for microphones or helicopters, or lizards, or any other type of surveillance equipment. "Th-they'll reboot me too."

Carlos watched nervously as the host laughed a pained, maniacal laugh. "Not literally, of course. But as close as possible."

Carlos blinked away tears. "Cecil, I promised you. You won't be reeducated. I swear on us."

 _"Nothing prevented them from doing it the last time."_ Cecil said quietly, avoiding eye contact. "Or I assume all the times before."

Carlos's heart hurt. "Cecil…"

Cecil locked eyes with Carlos. "I've seen what people are like after they're reeducated. It… it feels like you're not truly there, like you've just been completely wiped clean. No past. No present. Nothing. It's… it's terrifying, Carlos. It's so terrifying." His voice dropped into a whisper. "I'll die before I become like that again."

Carlos shook his head and inched closer. "I swear, Cecil," he said, "I could never let them silence you like that."

"It wouldn't be your choice." Cecil's voice was soft, despondent. "StrexCorp is just waiting for the right time. I can feel it."

He looked back at the radioactive sludge and lava at the bottom (or what was assumed to be the bottom) of the canyon. "F-for once in my life, I want something to be my choice. My way. My voice a statement against StrexCorp."

"That's just it, Cecil." Carlos shook his head. "You're the Voice of Night Vale. The city looks to YOU. They _need_ you. _I_ need you."

By then Carlos had reached the ledge Cecil was at, and turned his face to look at him. "If you do this, the fight is over before it's even begun." He whispered. "I know the last few weeks have been stressful… A-and from a scientific point of view, I realize you have depression."

Cecil looked at him knowingly. _You think?_ "I know, I know." Carlos rolled his eyes. "but I'm serious, Ceece. The chemistry in your brain right now make it seem like there's no way out. You feel like you've lost control of everything you hold dear, and it hurts your whole body."

"…. Like the hooded figures?" Cecil replied, a voice like a child.

"A bit, yes." He replied, "like the hooded figures."

Carlos turned his face back. "But the point is, even though you feel helpless right now, there's still so much left to do.

"You mentioned Tamika Flynn-" Cecil put a finger to his lips and pointed to a skink that skittered past, a microphone crudely taped to its back. "…. You know who… and her team of you know what's…. Well, maybe, they'd be willing to help in some way or another."

Carlos touched his forehead to Cecil's. "And you will always have me, and my scientists."

"I know, love." Cecil's voice cracked. "It just… it all feels so hopeless…"

"I know, darling, I know." Carlos said, putting a hand to his cheek. "It's how it feels…it might be how it looks… but it's not… not yet. 'We have the power to begin the world over again.'"

"Carlos!" Cecil gasped. "You've been reading!"

Carlos chuckled. "Yes, and I know how dangerous it is."

The scientist offered a smile that damn near made Cecil melt. "Come on, my honey-voiced-honey. Step back from the ledge. I made your favorite for dinner."

"G-Grilled cheese with tomatoes?" he asked meekly.

Carlos nodded. "I even made some homemade pita chips." His smile became a little wider, a little more real feeling. "Sound good, my perfect Cecil?"

After a pause, Cecil glanced longingly at the vats at the bottom, then back to the scientist. "It… it sounds lovely, my perfect Carlos."

Carlos breathed a sigh of relief. He wordlessly held Cecil's hand as he helped him back to solid ground. The scientist couldn't stop himself from wrapping him in a tight hug, tears fighting their way past his eyes and bubbling down his cheeks. "Carlos…" Cecil was surprised.

"I was so scared, Cecil." Carlos's voice was barely above a whisper. "I… I thought I lost you…"

"C-Carlos… I… I'm sorry…"Cecil's heart hurt at his words.

"Cecil, please." Carlos's voice was pleading. "I'm begging you, please don't do it to me…P-please don't leave me like that…" his breath hitched. "I couldn't handle losing you."

"I…" Cecil swallowed away the lump in his throat. "I'll do my best, Carlos. I promise I'll do my best."

"I… I can work with that." Carlos nodded.

They broke their hug, keeping their hands intertwined. They started to walk towards the car, but Cecil stopped. "Wait." He said. "Hold on a moment."

He took his hand back, then dug through his pockets. He unfolded a piece of paper, then approached the ledge again. Carlos held his breath again. Cecil tore the paper into ninths, and folded each piece into a paper crane. He proceeded to drop each crane into the canyon. He then sang three lines from an unfamiliar Beastie Boys song, and turned around and walked back to Carlos, taking his hand again. Carlos didn't ask what the paper was, or why he did what he did, he just kept walking. It wasn't until they started driving that someone spoke. "That's… how you dispose of an unused official form." Cecil said. "I know you wanted to ask."

Carlos smirked, at the town's strange customs and at his boyfriend's apparent clairvoyance. "And so you know," Cecil added quietly, not looking at him, "I won't be able to apply for an Official Self-Termination notification form for six months since I cancelled this one."

Carlos frowned slightly, blinking away tears and tightening his grip on the steering wheel. "S-so, you'd better be right about it, you d-damn scientist…" Cecil's voice was wobbly and his eyes were watery.

The scientist looked back at Cecil with a small smile, and take his left hand in his right. "Thank you, Cecil." He murmured, "Thank you."

Carlos brought Cecil's hand to his lips and planted a kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too."

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 **Okay guys, rate, coment, fave and feed your ninjas well! :D**


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